


no lesson in magic

by certaintiescertainly



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Monster Hunter AU, UHHH possibly more pairings later, bona fide worldbuilding up in this joint, if i ever get to any pairing lmfao, no not that one either, not that monster hunter, will update tags and rating accordingly but expect adult content in the later times
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 12:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16933434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certaintiescertainly/pseuds/certaintiescertainly
Summary: Strange occurrences are commonplace for Shiro and Keith, as monster hunters. Even Shiro losing an arm to a curse is taken mostly in stride. Until it turns out, that's not the end of it.Nothing's ever simple.





	no lesson in magic

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a sappy dedication and then decided against it but I'd still like to thank the many writers for this pairing, you're all inspirations and wonderful and to be counted among such esteemed company is all I could hope for. That I get to do so without anyone's say-so is, uh, don't think about it, it's fine. C: 
> 
> Thanks for reading! We're going places, I promise!

Everything is smooth until it’s not. Fire and blood and the inexplicable, dangerous tug on the gut caused by strong magic, and Shiro is down an arm. Keith isn’t down a partner, though, and that’s better than it could be. Much, much better.

 The scar is ugly, purpled and strange, where it was violently removed. While Keith watched. He had screamed. too: for help, for anything. The witch just laughed, and laughed.

 They still don’t know why they were targeted. They weren’t that deep into the wilds, it just sort of...happened. Like they were the test subjects for a sick experiment, or maybe just unlucky.

 It feels enough like an omen, though. Enough that they both agree, without really talking about it, that even though the wound healed, cauterized by the arcane, as soon as it was taken...it’s time for a break. They put in to the lodge for leave, and stay away from prying eyes. Hunters are superstitious, almost by necessity, and while Keith and Shiro are made cautious, they don't know how others will take the story, and they both don’t want abject panic. Panic and hunters do not traditionally get along well. It used to lead to burnings, and now, even still, can lead to quarantine if a hunter is considered enough of a potential threat. A potential infection of the supernatural, winding its way into the banality of civilian life like bacteria overtaking healthy cells in a petri dish. It’s part of the business. A really, really unpleasant part.

 Nothing seems to happen, though, nothing weird, in the first couple of weeks. They’re both antsy, but they successfully channel it into sprucing up the shack Keith inherited from his dad. Home improvement is a hell of a drug, turns out. Though they’re shy about spending money, not sure how long they’ll be out of it, they still shell out for enough building materials to really make the garage a proper hunter’s den. That is, instead of a collection of spiderwebs and old, outdated tools of the trade that have been ignored since Keith opened the place back up.

 But it’s not long before they’re discovered.

 Keith sucks at his teeth when he sees the old pick-up truck pull in to their driveway. It’s a long way from civilization, this little place, and closer to the edge of the wilds than anyone but the lodges get most of the time. It’s also pretty inhospitable land, all cliffs and bluffs of the plainlands that pretty closely resemble desert. It’s not true desert until the edge of the wilds proper, but it’s close enough that most people find it unsettling, and stay far away. Keith has no idea what drew his father to the plot. Maybe it was just cheap.

 The truck parks, and out steps Kolivan. He’s alone, and appears to be unarmed, though, with hunters, that can be counted on to be not true a good eighty percent of the time. Still, it means they’re not being hauled in for questioning. At least, not yet. Shiro is  out in the garage, completely unaware, and Keith has no way to warn him, but at least he can try to head off disaster, and he shoves the screen door outwards with a shrill squeak before Kolivan reaches it, meeting him on the porch.

 Keith nods, hoping his face is neutral. “You’re a long way out from the lodge. What can we do for you?”

 Kolivan takes in the shack. It really is a shack, couple of rooms and a big garage, and it looks better than it has in ages, but it’s not exactly a house. “You’ve done work on this place. Looks better.” Keith makes a noncommittal noise, and Kolivan tilts his head. “Good place to rest up, out here, after the takes you’ve had. Good place to hide somethin’, too.”

 Woah, okay. Keith frowns. “You think we’re hiding.”

 “I know you are. I’m not here to drag you to the council on a hunch, Keith, I just wanted to find out if we could help. You were both pretty close-lipped about explaining yourselves, and one of mine found some pretty nasty scars in the wilds, out where you said you’d been scoping. Magic powerful enough to stay.”

 Fuck. There it is, then. Keith keeps his gaze steady. Kolivan nods, and continues, “I don’t think you’d be carryin’ a curse without telling anyone, but I wanted to--”

 “A witch took Shiro’s arm.” Making Kolivan dance around the subject is too much, when they both don’t have much patience for it. The veteran hunter’s eyebrows raise.

 “He’s alright?”

 “Yeah, magic sealed it, somehow. Nothin’ either of us had to do, it took care of itself.”

 Kolivan digests this with a nod. “He inside?”

 “The garage.”

 No panic. Kolivan’s always been steady, and Keith does trust him, though he was dreading this visit. He also knew it was inevitable. It exposes them, for good or ill. Keith’s faith was stretched on the lodge’s reaction, but if Kolivan has a hand on the ball, his worries are lessened. Hew moves aside to let taller man in. He strides in, comfortable. He’s been here before, but a lot of hunters carry that kind of confidence, anyways. Like they can inhabit any space, and own it.

They’re a breed apart. Maybe, something says in Keith, maybe they had nothing to worry about after all.

 They head to the garage in silence, no small talk. Shiro looks up from the workbench, and his expression goes from open, expecting his partner, to unreadable when he spots Kolivan. Nothing for it, though. He straightens, sleeve tied off. No use trying to hide the change.

 Kolivan gives him a once-over. The tension has Keith and Shiro’s backs straight, and Shiro’s free hand clenches and unclenches. Not the most subtle of tics, but their nerves have both been through the wringer pretty recently.

 “Well, you’re still upright. More’n I was expecting.” He finally says. Shiro offers a wry smile.

 “Yeah, and no curse. Least as far as we can test.”

 Kolivan sighs. “Alright, hear me out, both of you.” Keith edges over to Shiro’s side as he’s addressed, wanting to catch Kolivan’s face.

 “You’re both stubborn, prideful asses, but when we guessed what happened, we started a collection at the lodge. It’s healthy enough to replace that arm. After more thorough testing.”

 Keith swallows past a dry throat. They expected the testing. They knew it was needed, there’s stuff that could be woven into Shiro or Keith that neither of them had the tools to detect. The lodge does, though. They were putting it off, sure, but even if Kolivan hadn’t come to see for himself, they were fast approaching the point where ignoring it would be more than irresponsible. It might prove deadly. But a bionic arm--that’s not gonna be lodge work. They’ll have to go to a specialist. And, with how it looks…

 Shiro has the same train of thought. “It’s ugly-lookin’, Kolivan. And things are tense in the city, we weren’t sure...how it’d be taken.”

 He sighs. “You mean, you didn’t think we’d see you through this. Takes more than a witch to break us, Shiro. You could have come right away. You should have.”

 Guilt, now. It was Keith who wanted to stay away. Keith who took them to the shack, set up shop while Shiro was in and out of consciousness, still mumbling weird things as an aftereffect of the arcane. When Shiro woke up properly, he didn’t argue, though. Maybe ‘cause he knew what Keith would say.

 Keith clears his throat. He won’t let his partner take the fall for this. “It wasn’t him. I kept us out of the lodge.” Kolivan turns a piercing gaze on Keith, but he doesn’t cow.

“...Well, past is the past. How much you gotta do here to lock up?”

 Keith and Shiro both recoil. “Now?” Shiro says.

 “Time’s wasting. We gotta make sure you’re clean before anything else.”

 He has a point. They both have been pushing it. And Kolivan doesn’t seem angry about it, and is giving them an opportunity they really don’t deserve--to cut their losses, and go in. They take it. Shiro moves to clean up the blade he was working on, and Keith helps. They’re both in the back of the truck in under five minutes.

 It’s quiet. Kolivan isn’t much for conversation, and neither is Keith. Shiro normally keeps things a little more lively, but he’s quiet, too. Maybe out of embarrassment. Keith wants to apologize to him--this mess is his fault--but he’d been scared, plain and simple. He’d done the only thing he could think of, and tried to protect what he had.

The air is dry, and Keith’s throat feels it. They bump along the dirt road, the only sound the whirr of an old, old engine, and the creak of the truck as it churns the dirt underneath it.

 There’s a faint whistling, and that’s their only warning. Keith frowns, then abruptly registers what he’s hearing and shouts--Kolivan swerves to get off the road, too late, and Shiro reaches for his partner, protective to the last--

 The world explodes. The truck tilts and rolls, and when it stops, it’s on its side. Keith is suspended above Shiro, but he undoes his belt and practically lands in the man’s lap. Kolivan’s unconscious, as far as he can tell from the back. Shiro’s close, though, Keith can feels warm breath on his face as the man undoes his own belt. They don’t try to crawl out, though. They don’t know the first thing about their attacker, and they both breathe in silence, shuffling to get their feet under them and then...waiting.

 It’s only a few seconds, but it stretches long. Time to move. They’re sitting ducks for another attack. Keith crawls forward, and checks Kolivan’s pulse. Steady. He’s out, face bloodied, but alive. He works to unbuckle the man’s seat belt, grimly accepting that they’ll be weighed down, but they cannot--do not--leave people behind. Shiro’s close enough behind him that he feels the man’s warmth, and then.

 Footsteps. They both freeze. Someone’s moving along the side of the truck, and Keith can hear, past the roar of blood in his ears, an exhale of breath before their fourth steps into view of the windshield. Dark boots are all they can see. Keith reaches for a knife--then the owner of the boots speaks.

 “Come on out. I’m not here to hurt you. Threat’s gone.” A rich, cultured voice, syllables sharp, not like the drawl so many hunters end up adopting. This is a city voice.

 Untrustful, but with an injured party and not many options, Keith and Shiro move as one to get out of the truck, crawling through the windshield. There’s no safe way to get Kolivan out with them, and he might be safer inside.

They’re right. 

**Author's Note:**

> WHOMST TF
> 
> say hi say hello if u so desire, here's a twitter and a decidedly multifandom pillowfort and I'd link tumblr too because frankly there's more Content on there but we don't know about that platform right now, it's probably fine.


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